Of Hash Browns and Broken China
by Jemennuie
Summary: Nymphadora Tonks is sixteen and perfectly bubbling over with hormones when she meets him. She is also quite certain that nobody has ever had a crush as intense as hers, much less on their professor. One-shot.


Nymphadora Tonks is sixteen and perfectly bubbling over with hormones when she meets him. She's holding a plate of hash browns in her hands and inelegantly trying to scarf down said hash browns with her fingers when she strides into her first class of the year, trips on a speck of dust and promptly drops the plate. The sound of shattering china is enough to silent her friends' disgusted cries that forks were invented for a reason and Tonks nervously glances around the classroom to judge where the professor is before doing anything.

"Well, mistakes happen," she hears a soft voice from the side of the classroom and nearly jumps when the man repairs the plate with a wave of his wand. "Try to be less clumsy next time, Miss…?"

Tonks is gaping at the man. _That's_ the professor? But he's so young! The professor is looking at her expectantly and finally one of her friends elbows in, "Tonks. Her name is Tonks."

"Yeah, but you can call me Nymphadora," Tonks blurts out.

The professor blinks. "Okay, Nymphadora. Go ahead and take a seat, we'll be starting class soon. You're here for 6th year Muggle Studies, right?"

Tonks nods, mid-gape, and doesn't speak another word until approximately two seconds after leaving the classroom. "Oh my Merlin, he's so hot!" she enthusiastically blurts out to her two friends, Hestia and Rosa.

"Professor Quirrell?" Hestia wrinkles her nose. "He's sorta dorky looking."

"Yeah, his ears kinda stick out funny," Rosa concurs.

"What? Nuh-uh." Tonks proclaims, nearly looking offended. "I mean, Professor Auchampaugh, _his_ ears stuck out funny, but I didn't even know he was retiring." A sneaking smile creeps over her face and she gleefully exclaims her next sentence, "And now we have a new professor and he's so hot! I didn't know professors could be hot!"

"Tonks, you and your older men—"

"Should we warn Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh shush," Tonks scolds her two friends, but in a second she's smiling again. After all, it's hard not to smile when she knows she'll be seeing Quirrell for the rest of the year. Who knows, maybe it'll even improve her grades by motivating her to actually study.

Tonks discovers exactly eight weeks and two days into the school year that spending every class staring dreamily at the professor is generally not beneficial to one's grade and, apparently, neither is spending every class lovingly doodling NAQ in the margins of her parchment (because, come on, who _wouldn't_ want Q as one of their initials?). It's exactly eight weeks and two days into the school year when Quirrell announces after class, "Miss Tonks, if I could have a word."

For a second her heart nearly beats out of her ribcage as she creates rosy-pink daydreams of Quirrell proclaiming that he also has a crush on her. Instead, he holds out her most recent midterm and Tonks's jaw drops at the bold red "T" at the top.

"T? I got a—I got a _Troll?_" she staggers backwards at the sight of such a poor grade.

"I'm sorry, Miss Tonks," Quirrell says gently. "I wanted to talk to you because, to be honest, I'm a bit surprised. Looking at your grades in Professor Auchampaugh's class you did rather well, so I would've expected better from you. Is anything going on that's making it difficult to do your best in the class?"

"I—well—" she peeks over the top of her midterm and, despite the horribly foreboding feeling in her stomach, can't help but smile at the sight of Quirrell's face. "No, professor, there isn't. I'll do better next time."

"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Tonks."

"Nymphadora. You can call me Nymphadora," Tonks smiles and feel a warm feeling behind her ribcage again.

He gives a small smile. "Very well. I'm glad to hear that, Nymphadora."

After that, Tonks spends nearly every waking minute either studying or asking Quirrell questions to make sure she understands the class one hundred percent, yessireebob. She is determined to receive an "O" on the next midterm because if that's what it'll take to make Quirrell like her, then that's what she'll do.

It's the morning of the second midterm and Tonks thinks that maybe she has a tiny little fraction of a cold because she feels as though she's about to collapse whenever she stands for too long and she's seeing spots in front of her eyes and _has it always been this hot in the common room?_ But she _will_ take the midterm and ace it, even if she maybe has just a tiny little bit of a cold. Her friends argue that it's more than just a _bit_ of a cold and she really ought to go to the Hospital Wing, but Tonks waves a hand and insists she's fine.

She's only been sitting at her desk for five minutes when the dark spots obscuring her vision have essentially become her vision and she can barely string together two words, much less an essay on electricity. She staggers up to Quirrell's desk and weakly stutters, "I'm not…feeling well. I'm gonna…go to the loo and…splash water…on my face."

By the time she makes it to the loo, she feels as though every fiber in her body has been set on fire and she falls to her knees by the sinks, desperately pressing her burning face against the cool, sleek tile of the wall because it's so nice and cool and she must be fire and the black spots are becoming larger and …

-x-x-x-

Tonks isn't exactly sure where she is, or why her body aches with exhaustion, she just knows that there's a soft pool of coolness against her forehead and she focuses on that coolness with every ounce of strength because it just feels so _nice_, like somebody's hand but so nice and cool and—

"Miss Tonks? Can you hear me?"

She gives a small groan and pries her eyelids open to reveal a slightly out-of-focus Quirrell kneeling by her. It vaguely strikes her that she's still kneeling against the wall of the loo and with another groan she leans back towards the cool tiles.

"I think we need to get you to the Hospital Wing, Miss Tonks. Can you walk?"

Tonks shakes her head and Quirrell uncertainly bites his lip.

"Alright, I'll help you up." He awkwardly shuffles around to her side and, placing one arm around her waist, heaves her into a standing position. She allows her head to loll onto his shoulder and is torn between thinking that it would be horribly unsexy if she accidentally drooled on his shoulder and thinking that if she didn't feel like she was about to die any moment she would probably be ecstatic to have Quirrell's arm around her.

When they make it to the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey hurriedly ushers her to one of the sterile white beds lined up against the wall and gives her a foul green potion to drink. Within seconds, she has fallen asleep.

-x-x-x-

"She should be fine, Quirinus."

"Okay. I was just asking because it's been almost six hours, Madame Pomfrey, but if you're sure—"

"Yes, I'm sure. It's just a flu. Once the Pepper-Up potion takes effect she'll be completely cured."

Tonks blearily opens her eyes and tries to judge where she is. In the past day alone, where she wakes up is starting to feel an awful lot like a game of Russian Roulette. "Professor Quirrell?" she hears her hoarse voice speak aloud.

"Oh, she's awake," comes Madame Pomfrey's voice.

Tonks pulls herself into a sitting position and begins hugging her knees as Quirrell walks towards her from the other end of the Hospital Wing. "How are you feeling, Miss Tonks?"

"Better," she says, and is amazed to find that she really does feel quite a lot better. "Thank you for—er—" Oh Merlin, it was all coming back now. Had she drooled on her shoulder? Or looked otherwise hideously unattractive? "Uh, well, thank you. It was really nice of you. I can't imagine anyone else doing that for me, I mean, none of my friends come for me but you did."

The tips of Quirrell's ears are turning pink and his next words are accompanied with a shy smile. "I couldn't exactly leave one of my most enthusiastic students passed out in the loo. And—er—I must admit the thought of sending another student after you didn't occur to me until after the fact. This is my first year teaching, you see, so I'm not exactly used to having students listening to me." He looks at his feet with a positively embarrassed expression, before giving a sheepish laugh, "I rather wish I had thought of it, actually. It's a bit awkward venturing into the girl's loo."

Tonks can't help but laugh before she tries to conceal her smile at the thought that he manages to look cute even when he's embarrassed. "I can't say I've ever been in the boy's loo," she grins.

"As I have now learned today, it's apparently rather similar to the girl's loo," he uncertainly returns her amused grin and she has to keep herself from squealing at the thought that they're having an actual conversation. Yes, it's awkward small talk, but it's awkward small talk with _her_. "Well, I'm glad to see you're doing better, Miss Tonks. I should be going."

No, not already! She feels a pang of disappointment at the thought that their conversation is about to end before it's even really started and hastily blurts out the first thing she can think of. "Was that you who put your hand on my forehead? Back in the loo?"

When he speaks, he has the same embarrassed expression on his face that she finds so positively adorable. "Yes, well, you see it's the Muggle method of—"

"Checking for a fever, I know. I remember that from my 5th year Muggle Studies class," Tonks smiles brightly and hugs her knees more tightly.

"Yes, exactly." He hesitates for a second before adding, "My mother is a Muggle so when I was young that's how she used to check for a fever. It's become something of a habit for me, even though my father's a wizard."

"I'm a half-blood, too!" Tonks cheerfully exclaims at the idea of having something in common. "My dad's Muggleborn, and my mom's pureblood."

"Yes, there are quite a lot of us." He gives another small smile, before repeating, "Well, I should be going. I'll see you in class on Thursday."

Tonks pouts at the now-empty hospital wing, before hugging her knees again and smiling: she would find a way to have more conversations with Quirrell, and that would make him like her for sure.

Her plan is interrupted by a flurry of exams, followed by winter break, followed by spring break, followed by the realization that Quirrell is busy enough that it's awfully hard to catch him for a conversation without walking right up to the professors' table at the Great Hall. As tempting as that is, she can't help but think that she would die of embarrassment if the other students thought she was a teacher's pet and so she waits instead.

It's the last day of classes when Tonks decides that if she's going to put her plan into action it's now or never. Muggle Studies has just finished for the day and it's only then that she realizes she doesn't actually have a plan, beyond her unexplainable desire to drag a conversation out of her professor. Quirrell has packed up his briefcase and is walking towards the door when Tonks blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, "You know, my hair is the same color as yours."

Quirrell pauses mid-step and turns to look at her with a confused expression on his face. "Pardon?"

"My hair. It's the same shade of brown as yours. When I'm not using my Metamorphmagus power, I mean. See?" Tonks slowly allows the bubblegum pink color to fade until her hair is a mousy brown.

Quirrell blinks. "I see. I'll admit, I didn't think your hair was naturally pink." Tonks openly laughs at his sentence and he gives a modest smile. "I assumed you were trying to mimic the hairstyle of the Weird Sister's lead singer."

Tonks gapes at him for a second, before an overjoyed smile spreads across her face. "You know what the Weird Sisters look like? That must mean you listen to them!"

"Yes, well," he gives an embarrassed smile before looking at his shoes. "They're actually one of my favorite bands."

"No way! That's so cool! I don't know anyone who likes the Weird Sisters!" Tonks feels as though she is about to die from happiness at having so much in common. "My mum says they're just part of a new fad and that that'll fade away soon, but I think they're here to say. And I don't think they sound like dying hippogriffs, either."

"Yes, I agree. Well, I should be go—"

"Is your first name really Quirinus?" Tonks eagerly interrupts, determined to keep the conversation going. "In the Hospital Wing back in December Pomfrey called you Quirinus."

"Well, yes, it is, but I would prefer if students referred to me by—"

"What's your middle name?" Tonks smiles enthusiastically.

"Why…?"

"Just wondering."

Quirrell regards her with an expression of suspicious amusement, before slowly replying, "My middle name is Quigley."

"Oh my Merlin, that's amazing," Tonks claps her hands together and starts laughing. "Your initials are QQQ, that's awesome! My initials are NAT. Like the fly, except without a 'G'."

"In that case, you're a credence to gnats everywhere," he gives a small smile, and Tonks starts laughing again as though it's the funniest thing she's ever heard. "Well, I should be going—"

"Wait!" Tonks blurts out, because it's the end of the school year and she doesn't want it to end like this. She's had a crush on him the entire year, after all, and she's determined for _something_ to happen, even if she doesn't know what. "Can I—can I have a hug?"

Quirrell shoots her another uneasily confused look before replying, "I don't know if that would be appropriate, Miss Tonks."

"It's just a hug!" she holds up her hands. "It's just, I really liked this class and I'm sad about the end of the school year and that I'm not gonna have this class again until September and—just one hug? Please?"

Quirrell gives her another wary look before saying, "I suppose."

She energetically throws her arms around him and after a second he hesitatingly reciprocates. She pulls her face away slightly but leaves her arms wrapped his torso, so that they're separated by barely centimeters and she can hardly believe how close she is to him. Really, she might faint from happiness any moment now.

"Miss Tonks…"

"You know you're my favorite professor," she says earnestly and a wide smile spreads across her face when she notices that the tips of his ears are going red again.

"I'm very complimented, but—"

"I've—well—" It's the moment of truth, and Tonks sucks in her breath before hurriedly spitting out, "I've had a crush on you since the beginning of the year."

"Miss Tonks, I'm flattered but—"

"Let me guess, you're too old for me?" she says and her voice cracks on the words.

He gives a tired sigh and they're standing so close together she can feel his sigh flutter against her face. "You're a very attractive girl, Nymphadora, but relationships between professors and students don't work out."

For a second it feels as though everything is shattering around her and, grasping at attempts to convince him otherwise, she bravely says, "What about a kiss? One kiss?"

He sighs again, and they're standing so close together that she can't help but think that she might simply lose herself in his eyes and she can feel his chest against her hands and his hands on her hips and his breath against her lips and…

-x-x-x-

"Tonks, the Hogwarts Express leaves in an hour! Where are you going?"

"I'll be back in time, Hestia, don't worry," Tonks yells behind her as she sprints down Hogwarts' stone corridors. When she arrives at the Muggle Studies classroom, Quirrell looks at her with a mildly surprised expression. "You're leaving?" Tonks pants, gesturing around the now empty classroom walls.

"Yes, I wanted to do a bit of traveling," he nonchalantly replies while sweeping a few last items into his briefcase.

"So you're coming back, then," Tonks breathes with relief.

"Yes. In a year."

"A_ year?_" She gapes at him, "But I'll have graduated in a year!"

"Yes, I know."

He clicks his briefcase shut and is walking towards the door when Tonks hastily asks, "Did I—did I effect this at all?"

"I have been considering this for some time, Miss Tonks. You did not impact my decision in the least." Tonks feels a pang by her ribcage and thinks—or perhaps it is only 'hopes'—that he is lying, that she means more to him than that. He continues speaking in the same cordially polite tone, "Well, Miss Tonks, I should be going. Good luck with your last year, and wherever your life takes you after that. You want to be an auror, don't you?"

Tonks speechlessly nods before weakly adding, "My mum says she thinks You-Know-Who is going to come back sometime, so we'll be needing aurors."

Quirrell gives a tight-lipped smile in response and Tonks only hears his distant response after he has left the classroom, "I suppose we'll see, won't we?"

…

A/N: Written for the CeliaEquus's "Ultimate Blame Me" Challenge at the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenge Forum. Characterization of Quirrell influenced by my one-shot "There is No Need for Such a Word", and all ages are canon-compliant.

Reviews and/or constructive criticism always appreciated!


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